Murdersphere Mosaic [ManXMan] [BoyXBoy]

Chapter 5 Part 3 A Letter From Home

I'm not awakened by rough hands; nor do I awaken in a BSM. I, just wake up alone in "my" apartment in this "Manhattan."

I walk over to one of my windows, sitting in the perpetual shadow of the elevated track, and peer around. The rain has stopped, the sun is out.

How long have I been asleep? I turn on the wall monitor.

Using news about the blackout as a reference, it seems that I slept for twelve hours. It is morning. The city is still recovering from accidents on the roads and the riots that occurred in poor neighborhoods outside of the Wall and in Mutant Town in the Bronx.

The room is suddenly claustrophobic. Sister Guardwall's advice returns to mind.

I almost fly out of the window, but I am stopped by a sense that this narrative illusion of privacy I possesses will go away if I become a public registered metahuman. What did Guardwall say? Do not register.  

Flying is out, at least until I find a way to turn invisible.

I find a train route that will take me to the Latverian Embassy here in New York and for the first time since leaving Kaiju World, I feel somewhat concrete in my direction. Still jumping through hoops, but somewhat filled with a curiosity about this Mega City New York.

I am out of the bed, rummaging through my bag, looking for black, and settling for another USA t-shirt in indigo, a matching pair of jeans, and a denim jacket and black Doc-Martens. I make sure I have my wallet, papers and tablet and I am in motion: out the door of the apartment, to the elevator, out the front door, and into the foot traffic with thousands of people getting a late start to their Thursday morning.

Once I'm outside... people are looking at me; small glances mostly, the occasional group will point me out. They all look normal, contemporary.

Plastic over-wear seems to be a fashion now, the nicer the clothes beneath, the more transparent the plastic, unless you're trying to go for a specific effect, like a shiny, hooded pancho, of which I see several. The street is wet from rain that I missed, so they're probably just being safe.

I put on a pair of Wayfarers and keep moving, walking with purpose, but also trying to blend. Anxiety starts to peak and I feel increasingly numb until I board  the subway and the train starts moving.

When we break into daylight from the tunnel, I realize what is wrong with me.

I am still alive, and I cannot make myself glad to be alive. Looking out of the window at the open sky, I feel like I'm in a cage. This is the second planet I've been on since being culled started and I'm alive.

Do I want to be in danger? I wonder. No, I do not want to be in danger but, I want to feel free... even if the feeling is a lie.

When I was training with Titus, pushing my powers to the limit every day... I felt free. Even though I was completely regimented, just releasing my strength regularly was exhilarating and freeing.

Have I really used my powers since I arrived? Outside of consuming matter... no I haven't.

Maybe I needed to start using my powers again. Or maybe I should stop. Maybe this suicidal depression I'm feeling is because I may be addicted to using my powers. If I go cold turkey, maybe my emotions will eventually even out. I just have to not kill myself before then, even though it is too easy to think about.

Fuck, I'm already crying, stupid tears bleeding around the bottoms of the sunglasses. No one bothers me.

I open my mind, slightly. From snippets of thought, I read a litany of excuses. They do not want to get involved. I look like someone to be avoided: the hair, the clothes, sunglasses all screamed: "unsupervised youth." Someone was even considering reporting me to the Guardsman as a suspicious individual.